The Lost Christmas Eve
by SmurfyFriend
Summary: Italy is concerned when Germany confides in him that he is not celebrating Christmas this year... in a caring gesture, Italy goes to Britain for help, and with the help of his magic they set Germany up for the most unforgettable Christmas of his entire life. Mentions of SpaMono, GerIta if you squint and implied FrUK
1. ACT I

**Heyoo! Smurfyfriend here!**

 **I know, it's been awhile since I posted anything. I swear, I'm not dead! But I am on the night shift now so that has kinda been messing with my schedule... but on the plus side I can work on stuff at work now! lol**

 **This is something that's been in the works for at minimum a year. actually a little over a year, now that I think about it. I meant to have this posted by Christmas of LAST year xD**

 **And yes, there is more. :D i think there's... three parts left? maybe four, but I don't think so. And those are currently on the way.**

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Thick, wet snowflakes drifted languidly down from the sky as a shivering and thickly dressed Italian man hurried his way down the road. He breathed a hot breath onto his cold, gloved hands, rubbing them together in an attempt to heat them up. He wasn't quite acclimated to the cold German weather; despite the weeks he had lived there, returning after a visit to his brother and his fiancé in their Tuscan villa threw him off enough that the familiar path was freezing and unforgiving. He was the warm, sunny country of Italy! Of COURSE he'd be freezing in Berlin on Christmas Eve!

Once he got to the street and house he'd been looking for, his heart started to hurt. All of the other houses had Christmas lights up, or some kind of decorations up around the house. In a couple of houses, Italy could even see the lights and twinkling ornaments of Christmas trees through the windows.

But for the first time Italy suspected in forever, no lights adorned this house. The inside through the windows looked dark, sad. The whole house seemed cold, dark and sad.

 _Just like its owner_ , Italy frowned at the thought.

Italy approached the front door, and found it locked when he tried to open it. The auburn-haired nation glanced over at the driveway. Yup. The Volkswagen and Audi both sat in their usual spots, untouched. So Germany was definitely home. He knocked at the door. When no answer met his ear after several minutes, he fished his keys from his coat pocket and sorted through the various keys and baubles until he found Germany's house key. (The German had given it to him in case something happened to his own key). He used the key to unlock the door, then opened it with a loud creak. The loud barking of large dogs and the telltale clicking of clawed paws on wood floors immediately greeted Italy at the door, only for the three dogs that had made the barking to be silenced by loud yells in German. So Germany was DEFINITELY home.

Italy followed the familiar corridors of the house until he was at the study. Without a sufficient knock, Italy opened the door, only to see the Germany that made his heart hurt.

The blonde nation had his hair slicked back with gel. Reading glasses sat on the bridge of his prominent nose, lenses white from the glare of the laptop in front of him. His sky blue eyes- once gentle and bright- were dull and uncaring. Italy put on a smile and half-ran, half skipped, half floated over to the German. Germany gave a great sigh. "What now, Italy?" he asked with some annoyance in his voice, "I have a lot of work to get done."

"Ve, work on Christmas Eve? You're so odd, Germany!" Italy almost hummed, hoping his smile would be infections as per usual, "Speaking of Christmas, where _IS_ everything? It's'a Christmas Eve and you don't even have your tree up!"

Germany avoided his eyes. "I just…. Didn't feel like putting up a tree this year." He explained softly, eyes closed and posture stiff.

"Then what about the lights, and the Christmas cookies?" Italy frowned softly, "Germany makes the very best Christmas cookies. Even better than Big Brother France!"

Germany cleared his throat and shuffled some paper around. Italy's frown of concern deepened as he put a hand to Germany's back. "Ve… Germany…" Italy's voice was soft. "Are you okay?"

Germany kept his face turned away. "I just can't handle Christmas this year, Feliciano." His voice was soft, "There will be no Christmas in the Belschmidt residence."

Italy's heart sank in his chest hearing his human name. Human names were only used in intimate or serious interactions. And since the situation didn't strike Italy as intimate or friendly, Italy knew the reason why his human name was used. "Ludwig," Italy's voice had a sadness to it, "Ignoring the things he loved, and what you both loved together isn't going to make the pain go away."

Germany didn't answer, nor did he react to Italy's soft words. But the younger-looking nation was not deterred. "Ve, Luddy," Italy's lips pulled into a smile in the hopes the German may mimic it, "Japan, and Lovino, and Antonio, and some of the other nations are all coming to my house for Christmas."

Italy patted Germany's back with the hand that was already there. "I'd really like it if you would come over and spend Christmas with us."

Germany's fist tightened. "Italy…. Forgive me for rushing you out, but I have work to do before the New Year."

"At least think about it, Okay? Ve…"Italy quickly added.

"Ja, Ja, I'll think about it." Germany hastily replied, not a single stitch of sincerity in his voice. "Now, please, Italy…"

Italy left with a silent close of the door. He quietly walked out of the house, to the street. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets as a cold breeze ruffled his auburn hair.

As he walked through the town, he passed a man in a moth-eaten tuxedo coat and thin suit pants, a well loved violin nestled in his arms and the case at his feet. Italy stopped for a moment to listen to his song. He recognized it immediately.

" _God rest ye, merry gentleman_

 _Let nothing you dismay_

 _Remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas day…"_

For one reason or another, Italy found himself thinking about his German friend.

He _HAD_ to help Ludwig.

He _HAD_ to.

Looking at the man's bare hands, then back down at his own, Italy pulled the soft gloves off. He also unwound his scarf from his neck, exposing it to the cold air. The Italian also dug a couple of loose bills from his pocket and put all three things in the man's violin case. The man halted his playing. "Your gloves," he said, "You can't give these away… you'll catch your death."

"I have another pair." Italy smiled, "Merry Christmas."

The man smiled, visibly grateful. "God bless you, sir. Merry Christmas."

Italy walked along the road. When he heard the violin again, he looked up and looked back and saw the man had put on the gloves and scarf. Italy smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket as he kept walking. No one deserved to be sad at Christmas.

A few hours passed and it was dark outside. Italy looked down at the address in his hands then back up at the door. This was definitely the place. The warm nation swallowed the lump in his throat and shakily knocked on the door three times. A few moments later the master of the house answered the door. His shaggy blonde hair shined brightly under the colorful lights, his thick eyebrows were knit. He had a bit of a scowl over his face. "Oh, it's only you, Italy." His face relaxed, British accent thick in his voice. "Happy Christmas, old chap."

" _Buon Natale,_ Britain." Italy offered a nervous smile. "May I please come in?"

"Yes, yes, please do." Britain stood aside and let the sunny nation through. "Can I offer you some tea, or coffee or something? The Frog just made a fresh pot."

"Coffee would be great. Thank you." Italy smiled, following him to the kitchen.

Italy was met by the sight of a familiar French rear end bent over an open oven. But after a moment the familiar face that went with it appeared. "Ve! Big Brother France!" Italy almost sang.

"Ah, mon petite Italy!" France offered Italy one of the cookies cooling on the counter. "How are you this fine holiday?"

"I'm okay," Italy shrugged, accepting the cookie, "Thank you. How about you?"

"I'm doing alright." France offered a smile.

Britain offered Italy a mug filled with coffee, which he graciously accepted. "By the look of your half-smile, and your hesitant 'okay', I think I can deduct that this isn't a social visit."

" _Angeleterre,"_ France chided, "Don't be rude to our guest."

"No, he's right," Italy waved France's concern away, "I do have something important to talk to you about, Mr. Britain."

"Arthur, please." The Brit replied, taking a sip from his teacup. "Or simply Britain. None of that formality crap."

"Arthur, then." Italy smiled. "Well… I guess to put it simply, I'm worried about Germany…"

Arthur kept focused, curious eyes on Italy, and sipped his tea. "Worried?"

"Italy nodded, staring down into his coffee. " _Si…_ Ever since what happened…" Out of the corner of his eye, Italy saw France pause, and his usual smile fall as he bowed his head sadly. "Well, since what happened, Germany's shit himself in and closed himself off from everyone."

Arthur stared calculatingly into his tea. "Come to think of it, I haven't heard from him. And we usually make it a point to play football to celebrate the Christmas truce."

"That's just it," Italy's voice was very quiet. "Germany… He's not celebrating Christmas."

Both of the nations nearly jumped in surprise. "W-what?!" Arthur almost shouted. "He's not having a Christmas?!"

France shook his head. " _Mon Dieu,_ this _IS_ serious. The Christmas Market must be suffering, too."

" _Si_ ," Italy looked up at Arthur with pleading eyes. "That's why I came here…. Please, Arthur, there has to be a way to make Luddy love Christmas again!"

Arthur thought very hard for a moment, his eyebrows knit and a frown over his face. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the doorbell rang. Arthur offered an apologetic smile and answered the door. "Ah, Roderich," The dark haired man stood in the doorway.

"Here are those records you asked me about at the last meeting, Britain." The dark haired Austrian handed Arthur a few records of classical music, and also handed him two CDs in cases. "Consider this a Christmas gift, If you like. Elizabeta gave me these, but I already have them."

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what to say, or whether or not to feel offended. "Ehm… Thank you." He said, looking down at the cd.

 _Trans-Siberian Orchestra._ "That's it!" Arthur almost shouted. "Roderich, come inside! I need your help with something!"

Before the aristocrat could deny, Arthur grabbed his wrist and pulled him across the threshold. "Italy, come with me!" Arthur shouted in the direction of the kitchen.

Not a moment later, Italy entered the room. "Arthur, what-"

"Basement, now!" Arthur managed, "Francis! I'm going down to the basement for a little while, don't come down no matter what!"

"Alright, _Angeleterre._ No lava this time, please!"

Arthur muttered an agreement and led the two to a staircase. They descended the stairs, only stopping for a moment so Arthur could unlock the door. Arthur opened the door to the basement and held it open as the other two walked in past him, then quickly shut the door behind them. Italy and Austria stood by and watched as Arthur straightened things up, then drew on the floor in chalk. "This is a very powerful spell." Arthur explained, all seriousness in his voice. "It's only been cast a few times in the last hundred years."

"Ve," Italy murmured, "But It'll help Germany?"

"Yes." Arthur nodded, "This spell should help Germany get his Christmas Spirit back."

"Whatever it takes, then." Italy nodded solemnly. "I can't stand to see him so upset."

"It's a good thing you say that," Arthur smirked, pulling a velvet cloak around his shoulders with a flutter. "I'm going to need your help with this."

"V-ve!? M-my help!?" Italy squeaked, "But I can't even do a simple card trick!"

"Neither can I," Austria huffed, affronted at the very insinuation. "Unless you count the magic of music, I am essentially useless to you."

"That's exactly the music I mean, you prat," Arthur huffed, "Italy, you play, yes?"

" _S-si,_ " Italy replied, "B-but I—"

"Just play what comes to mind," Arthur assured him, "You'll know."

The large grandfather clock in the corner chimed loudly. "Spit spot, pick up your feet lads! It's nearly ten o'clock, and heaven knows he'll in bed soon!" Arthur clapped his hands, "Italy, Austria- stand on those two corners!"

They did as they were told. As the bells of the clock chimed, Arthur murmured in a dead language, silver dust seeming to materialize from thin air. By the end of the tenth chime, a set of piano keys rested just in front of Austria. The bespectacled nation stared in awe at the keys. "Well?" Arthur crossed his arms, "Go on now. Play what comes to mind about Germany."

Tentatively, the Germanic nation plunked a few keys one at a time, until they seemed to have a pattern all their own. Then, Italy watched in amazement as a violin materialized from sparkling red dust. "Now your turn, mate." Arthur urged gently.

Italy took the violin and bow, and closed his eyes. He let his heart guide his hands as he played the notes.

" _God rest ye, merry gentleman_

 _Let nothing you dismay."_

Arthur murmured in approval, uncrossing his arms and using one hand to untie his cloak. "Right now," his voice was oddly calm. "You both need to swear you will stay put until the end of the spell, no matter what."

Both nations nodded in agreement. Italy could've sworn he heard a flute playing as Arthur looked up at them, green eyes glinting. "Alright," Arthur looked up at them, casting his velvety cloak away with a flourish. "Now it's my turn."

Italy watched as a guitar surrounded by burning green fire materialized into Arthur's hands. The clocks chimed again, two at a time, several times.

 _God rest_

 _Ye mer-ry_

 _Gen-tle_

 _Man._

Then, almost out of the blue, Arthur started playing. And it was a good thing the violin had left Italy's hands, because he wouldn't've played it- he was left dumbfounded staring at Arthur. He had heard tales of the island nation's punk rock phase, as well as his musical prowess- but Italy had thought it was all rumors. He was shown wrong that Christmas eve.

Arthur played with an intensity very few had ever seen from him. Fingers flew over metal strings and plucked screaming notes

 _Hark! Hear the bells, sweet silver bells_

 _All seem to say, 'throw cares away'_

 _Christmas is here, bringing good cheer_

Italy was only brought from his trance by the violin reappearing in his arms and joining in as the song began to slow. Arthur strummed one final cord, and the instruments all dematerialized into the air. Arthur fell to his knee, fist down on the glowing transmutation circle, his breath coming out in labored huffs. "Arthur!" Italy hesitated to move, "Are you-"

"Stay there!" He replied quickly, "I'm fine… I'm just not as young as I used to be, is all."

After a moment, the circle stopped glowing. "There. The spell is cast." Arthur stood. "Now both of you go right home and go right to bed. We've a long Christmas eve ahead of us."

"Ve, okay." Italy nodded. "Thank you so much for your help, Arthur."

"Yes, yes, of course." Arthur smiled politely. "If not for Germany's sake, then for Francis."

"Right," Italy's head bowed for a moment, "Sometimes it's strange to remember you're not the only one affected by that sort of thing…"

Arthur didn't reply until they were at the door. "Well, I guess I need to head home." Italy murmured, distractedly pulling his coat on. "we have a lot of guests at my house right now, and poor Romano's been entertaining them without me right now!"

"Right, right," Arthur cleared his throat, opening the door for Italy and Austria.

Austria gave a huff and started off towards his car. "What on earth did I get myself into… goodnight, merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas to you too, Austria." Arthur replied, "Have a good night, Italy. Drive safely."

"Ve, you as well, Arthur." Italy offered a wide smile. "Ve, if you and France aren't doing anything for Christmas, you're more than welcome to join us all at my house for dinner."

"That's rather kind of you, Italy. We'll try to stop by, if weather permits." He said with a smile. "Goodnight, Italy. And happy Christmas."

"Buon Natale to you too, Arthur." Italy replied, closing the door behind him.

Somewhere far away, Italy heard the bells chime.

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 **okeydokey, Act II is on its way :D fave, review, watch, and feed your ninjas well! :D**


	2. ACT II

**hey all!**

 **Yeah, I managed to get Act II all typed up. and yes, I forgot to mention, this is a Christmas-carol like story XD And the flute thing- important. If you can figure it out, awesome. if not, all will be revealed ;p**

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He was sure he wasn't tired a moment ago. Germany reflexively covered his mouth for a yawn for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes. He glanced up at the cuckoo clock that hung next to the door. Ten after ten. _Well,_ the German decided, _I suppose going to bed twenty minutes earlier wouldn't hurt anyone. I'll finish this tomorrow._

The German closed his laptop, putting his rectangular reading glasses on the lid. He shuffled out of the study, being sure he had his cell so he had an alarm in the morning. Germany locked the door behind him, always cautious of the sensitive documents in his office, then walked down the hallway. The clicking of clawed paws on hardwood floor sounded through the hall as Blackie, Berlitz and Asher dashed to join their beloved master for bed. The dogs settled in their usual spots at the foot of the bed as Germany stripped down to his undershirt and gray boxer shorts

The blonde man gave a quiet sigh, climbing into bed and subconsciously leaving room for the Italian that invaded his bed almost every night. The sky blue eyes of the nation gazed thoughtfully at the window. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky in large clumps, bound to bury the city in a thick blanket. Germany wondered to himself as he drifted off about how strange it was to not have the ambient light of Christmas lights through his window. And also about how sad Italy looked when he came over to visit.

About how heartwrenching it was, spending Christmas alone in his own home that was once full of life.

When Germany found that his wandering thoughts of his holiday solitude denied his entrance to dreamland, he reached on the headboard behind him and pressed the "radio" button on his alarm clock. He found that the static from the radio made it easier to fall asleep.

As he drifted off, he could've sworn that he heard the sounds of flute music through the static.

No more than an hour had passed beore Germany found himself awaken to the sounds of quiet piano music adrift through the winter air. He opened his eyes slowly, murmuring quietly in annoyance at being woken up so late at night. He swore, if it was Italy again there would be a very, _very_ long New Years' Day training session!

However, when his eyes were finally open, no Italy met his eyes. Instead, what appeared to be Austria dressed to the nines, complete with a suit and coat tails and white gloves. The aristocrat seemed to have a halo of silver that surrounded him. "Austria," Germany sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What in the hell are you doing here at this time of night? Looking like that, no less."

Austria turned his head, his dark brown hair shining brightly in the moonlight. He gave a huff. "I'm not Austria," He said, sounding offended it was even suggested. "I'm Past. As in, Christmas Past."

"Christmas… Past…?" Germany furrowed his eyebrows in doubt.

"Christmas Past." The Austria look alike nodded solemnly. "I figured it would be most effective if I were to take the shape of an important person from your past."

"Most effective?" Germany rubbed his forehead. Why was it he was always the one visited by spirits? He could swear, he was like the kid from _The Sixth Sense_!

"You sure are slow." Past rolled his eyes, then suddenly appeared inches away from Germany's face. "I'm here because _YOU_ are lacking in Christmas spirit. You're not celebrating Christmas at all this year, and it's caused quite the ripple effect."

"So what, you're going to sprinkle me with fairy dust and I'll want to have Christmas again? You're a bit off." Germany scoffed, eyes narrowed to an annoyed expression.

"No," Past shook his head, "You'll decide that at the end of your night. It's only just begun, Ludwig."

Past extended a gloved hand. "Take my hand, Ludwig Belschmidt. You've got a long night ahead of you."

Hesitantly at first, Germant stood from his bed. "Can I at least get some pants first?"

The Austria look- alike gave a groan. "Just make it quick."

The German grabbed for his army green fatigues he'd abandoned for bed, then with a chorus of clunks, his combat boots were tied and ready for action. "Alright," he said, standing. "Ready."

Past extended his hand again, and after a moment's hesitation, Germany accepted it.

A silver light, starting in the far corner and growing until it engulfed them fully warmed the German's pale skin. It was bright, bright enough that Germany was forced to close his eyes. After a few minutes, the light that had shone even through his eyelids had faded enough that Germany could open his eyes. Although, once he did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. " _Vas?_ " he murmured. "Where…. Where are we?"

"A Christmas from your past." Past made his presence known. "It was many centuries ago. Perhaps even before you can remember."

All of the sudden the unfamiliar place became familiar. "This is Austria's house." Germany muttered, "this was his house a long, long time ago. The memory's…." The German searched for the right term. "Well, it's fuzzy, for lack of a better term. But it's there. It's definitely still there."

"Good." Past nodded sagely, "Christmas memories are never _really_ forgotten, you know." There was a glint in the spirit's lavender eye. "Especially not a Christmas spent with love."

Germany opened his mouth as if to question the Spirit, but the faint twinkle of bells caught his ear. He turned to look, and found the source of the noise to be a small child, carrying a large box with ornaments, a wide smile over her slightly chubby face. The child was quickly followed by another, also carrying a box but with much more nervousness in his face. Germany couldn't help but stare. The second child looked like a younger version of himself, but with a black cape and robes. Of course, Germany didn't remember his childhood, but that's how he would see himself if he did. Or had any idea what he looked like as a young nation for that matter. "Yes, Ludwig." Past voiced his thoughts. "That's you, even if you can't remember."

Germany glanced back at past, then back to the scene before him. They were decorating all around the house, lighting candles and hanging ornaments. Along with them, Germany recognized a much younger Austria and Hungary. Their mouths all moved, but no noise could be heard. Christmas memories may never be truly forgotten," Past sounded apologetic. "But sometimes they're not remembered very well."

Germany wanted to tell Past it didn't matter. He didn't need their voices to know it was a good, happy Christmas. The stoic German could see it in their faces, see it in the very atmosphere. Dare he say, he could feel it in his whole body. His whole body felt warm, a kind of warm he hadn't felt in a long time. But he couldn't voice it. "You had Christmases like this before, all until last year." Past's voice was soft. "You were happy. Your people could feel it too."

Germany felt a lump in his throat. "One upon a long time ago, Christmas brought me happiness." He stated plainly. "Now…. Well, now it brings me nothing but pain."

"Then perhaps, my friend, you are not celebrating Christmas right." Past replied.

Germany hesitated for a moment before turning around once the sound of jovial flute music hit his ear. The stoic nation screwed his eyes shut tightly. Take me home, please. I'm done here." He spoke softly, his voice even.

Past nodded in understanding. "I understand." He said softly. "Take my hand."

Germany did without hesitation this time, and by the time his eyes were open he was in his own bedroom again. The blonde nation blinked his sky colored eyes, seeing no Austria look-alike in his bedroom. Was it all just a dream?

He looked down at himself. Yup. He was still wearing his green fatigues and boots. So it wasn't a dream.

The German gave a sigh, untying his boot laces and kicking them off tiredly. Finally, that was over, whatever that was. He could settle in for his long winter's nap. Once his boots were properly stood up and his green fatigues folded neatly and placed on his dresser, he did just that, the sound of radio static lulling him to sleep.

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 **review, comment, favorite, follow and feed your ninjas well :D**


	3. ACT III

**Hey all!**

 **I know, this is a little late... I meant to have this up like a week ago, but the places I've been working haven't had wifi, and my house's wifi sucks :P**

 **I'm too lazy to go and change the rating so I just decided to tame Roma down a little XD I had him dropping f bombs left and right and it was easier to just edit it out then change it and stuff XD**

For the second time that night, Germany was prodded awake. The blonde, already irate at one premature awakening that unwelcome holiday evening, gave a groan and sat up in his bed. Just like before, the snow outside fell heavily. The dogs remained in their spots at the foot of the bed, asleep without disturbance. In fact, everything in the room was exactly the same as when he went to bed, with one exception. The auburn-haired man standing at the head of the bed with a large grin. "Ve! Oh, good! You're awake!" he practically sang.

Germany groaned in annoyance. "Italy, why do you insist on sleeping in MY bed?" he asked pointedly. "I have a guest bedroom especially set up for you, you know."

The German looked closer at the Mediterrainian nation. The bubbly young-in appearance, if not age- nation was dressed in a suit jackey the color of red wine, along with a pair of slightly darker pants and a vest that was a dark, dark green, almost black. He sighed. "Let me guess," Germany groaned, closing his eyes and pinching the crease of skin between his eyebrows. "You're not Italy… Are you?"

"Ve, you're smart!" The Italy look-alike smiled wide and took a bow. "I am the ghost of Christmas Present. But you can call me Present, for short."

"I'm Germany," the deep-voiced German replied. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

Present nodded. "Si. Past already filled me in." He admitted, "But we're not going to do what you guys did."

"No?" Germany glanced over to him, then continued to pull on his fatigues and boots.

Present shook his head. "No." he confirmed, "Past showed you how celebrating Christmas made you feel before." He explained, "now, it's my job to show you what everyone else feels right now."

"How… everyone else…?" Germany had to stop and stare for a moment.

"Si." Present nodded, "Every action, Ludwig, has an equal and opposite reaction."

The spirit extended a feminine hand towards Germany. "Take my hand, Ludwig," his voice was just like Italy's, smooth as silk and happy. "We've much to see, and not much time to see it all!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes slightly and took the slim hand in his larger, calloused one.

However, unlike the silver light that Past brought with him, Present seemed to glow a warm, firey red glow, warm against his skin like a Yule log, burning hot in the fireplace of a family living room. By the time the light had faded, Germany opened his eyes, only to find himself… levitating, he observed. Levitating outside a foggy window, obviously attached to a house Germany didn't recognize from this height. "Where _are_ we?" Germany willed his shaking hands and voice steady.

Present laughed that familiar, joyful laugh. "Wipe the window clean and see for yourself, silly!"

Cautiously, not letting go of Present's hand until the German had both hands hanging on tightly to the window, he did as he was told. Once the glass was clean, Germany recognized the house Present had brought him to. "This… This is Italy's house." He stated glancing through the glass at all of the nations that came into sight. "Italy mentioned he was having company for Christmas… I had no idea almost the whole _world_ would show."

Present and Germany watched the merriment, a soft smile over Present's face. "It is truly amazing how one young man's love and kindness can affect so many. Especially during Christmas."

Ludwig felt the tug of a smile at his face. " _Ja,_ he admitted softly, "He is the contagious sort of happy."

The blonde nation scanned the crowd for his ally, dare he say, friend. "He isn't here," he noted, "Something isn't right, Italy isn' t here."

Without a word, Present simply nodded towards the door. Just as Germany glanced in the direction, the double doors that opened to the outside world swung open with the wind, snow swirling around the huddled figure in the doorway. "Veneziano!" Germany watched as the elder of the Italy brothers rushed from the back of the silenced room to the door, the embodiment of Spain following just as quickly. "You idiota… What'a on earth were you doing outside in a blizzard like this?!"

The shivering Nation's teeth chattered loudly. "G-G-Germany…" he managed. "H-h-h-he's all a-a-alone on C-C-Christmas…. Ve…"

"And that potato-headed jerkface kicked you out in the cold!? I'll kill him!" Romano fumed. "Where's your coat and gloves? I swear to God, if he kicked you out with them…"

"N-no, fratello," Italy shook his head, "P-people needed them… m-more than I d-did… Th-that's all." Italy cut himself off with a fit of coughing.

"Feli, you sound sick," Spain cut in, concerned, "Let's get you warmed up."

"B-but… Germany…" Italy's voice was weak as he tried to walk. "Germany… s-so sad… Have to… No one… should be sad… A-at Christmas…"

"I know, stupid, I know." Romano said with a scowl and a sigh. "Once we get you warmed up, we'll— _FELICIANO!"_

As his elder brother spoke, Italy lost his balance. His feverish mind couldn't process to stop him as he fell to the ground, landing with a quiet thud.

Germany watched from outside the window, eyes wide as he watched his best-and only-friend tumble to the ground. " _ITALY!"_ He shouted, knocking and banging on the windowpane.

"They can't hear us, Germany," Present shook his head, putting a hand to Germany's shoulder, "We're like white noise- snowflakes in a crystal wind."

Germany stopped his shouting and put his head down. "This…"he spoke softly, "This is all my fault… Italy's sick and it's all my fault…"

"Well, sort of, but not really." Present corrected. "He's sick because he gave away all his winter stuff on the way home… He's just sad because of you."

Germany sighed in exasperation. Just like his Italy. "But I can fix this, ja?" He asked, watching sadly as Romano and Spain carried Feliciano through the house, upstairs to his bedroom. "Once I've woken up, I can make him better?"

"Perhaps," Present nodded, "He is a gentle soul… a damaged soul that has seen much grief in his long life… but a gentle soul, even still." Present looked over to Italy's bed, where the small Nation lay shivering, wrapped up in blankets.

Germany frowned in remorse. He knew Italy was- despite his demeanor and actions- was not a young nation and had been through enough war and struggles for a lifetime. But even on his worst days, the auburn-haired nation never showed it. It made Germany forget from time to time how fragile he could really be. And although Germany had his reasons, he knew now how much it probably hurt the other nation, letting him see him in grief and not celebrating the holiday. Germany turned away from the sight of his sick little Italy. "Alright," he stated, "I've seen what you wanted me to see… Can we return home now?"

Present nodded, smiling that smile again, and took Germany's hand as he started to glow. But, almost too quiet to hear, Germany heard a voice. "H-Holy Rome…?" Germany recognized it immediately as Italy.

When he looked back, Italy seemed to be looking right at him, his usually closed eyes half open in delirium. "H-Holy Rome… Ludwig?"

Germany felt a chill run up his spine. Why did that feel so familiar? Before he could question it, he found himself back in his own bedroom. "Ve, you are troubled." Past observed with a slight frown.

Germany nodded slightly, looking down at his boots and debating whether or not to take them. "I sort of understand," he murmured, "I sort of understand what you're trying to do."

Past raised an eyebrow expectantly. "You're trying to guilt me into celebrate Christmas this year." He shook his head, running his hands through his stiff but not slicked back hair. "I'm afraid it won't work."

"Why not?" Present's voice was soft.

"I-it… It's too painful…" Ludwig finally admitted, feeling a catch in his throat. "N-not having him here… i-it's the first Christmas I've ever spent… a-alone…"

"But you're _not_ alone," Present insisted, "You have friends, like family, who only want to see you happy. _That's_ what I'm trying to do, Ludwig. Yes, you live alone. You may feel alone. But you are never alone."

Germany started to answer, but was overcome by a sudden wave of tiredness. Present put a hand to his head, easing him back into the bed and shushing him. "Shh," Present hushed him. "It's alright… rest… Your night is not yet over. You've one last visitor tonight."

Germany made a move to protest, but couldn't fight it as sleep finally overtook him.

 **comment, review, fave, watch, follow and feed your ninjas well! :D**


	4. ACT IV

**Okay, so this is a little later than expected. Work and school decided to make itself interesting by making the night shift a little more active. But, never the less, here we are at the last act again!~**

 **I'm tempted to make an animation or something for this. Believe it or not, that was actually the inspiration for this whole thing, wanting to make an animation of the spell casting thing in the first chapter XD**

 **Okay, without further adieu, read on, gentle reader, read on! :D**

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It seemed instantaneous that the blonde nation was roused from slumber. Too instantaneous. As soon as he was awake, Germany put a hand to his head and silently cursed himself for not setting the timer on the coffee pot. "Alright, what now?" he sighed. "Haven't I lost enough sleep tonight?"

" _THIS_ is the thanks I get?" A grating voice, far, far too familiar to the German pierced the air. "Gott, I beg and beg to be the one to come down here, and this is the thanks I get? An 'oh bruder, I missed you!' or a "gosh, I'm sure glad to see you again!' or maybe just a 'hello' or 'Merry Christmas' would suffice."

Germany recoiled in shock at the voice. Slowly, he turned. There, gleaming in the pale moonlight stood a man with bright silver hair and glowing red eyes. Germany felt rage boil in the pit of his stomach. How _dare_ they! How _DARE_ they take his form! "You've got a lot of nerve." Germany growled.

The albino cocked his head, looking confused. "West, what're you-"

"You, you took the form of my brother." Germany's voice sounded weary with tears. "This is low, even for ghosts!"

The albino shook his head and started approaching him. "No, west, no, it's me. It's the real awesome-"

" _Prussia is DEAD._ " Germany interrupted him, hot, angry tears bubbling from his eyes, "He died right in front of me, before I could have one last Christmas with my bruder."

The albino was very quiet for a moment. "I know, Ludwig." He said quietly, "I… I left you… Dissolution finally overtook me… Not having Nation Status…" he shook his head. "The years finally caught up with me…"

Germany turned away, hiding his face. "It's okay, Lud." Prussia's voice was soft. "But you can't just turn your back on Christmas because I'm not here to celebrate it with you… it… well, I don't care if I sound like a wuss for saying it, it hurts me to see you like this… you have to be happy."

"Happy _hurts_ , Gilbert." Germany's voice was barely a whisper. "Nothing but pain fills the air where you should be walking… the joy that comes from Christmas is gone, now that I'm alone."

"You're wrong, West." Gilbert put a hand to his back. " _You're never alone._ Not by a longshot."

"I know… I'm a total jerk for making you feel like it." Gilbert hung his head slightly. "Leaving _mein bruder,_ und Tonio, und Francis, und Birdie so unawesomely…" he glanced at the calendar and the red "X" scrawled over the 23rd of December. "Und at such an unawesome time…"

" _Ja._ You are a jerk." Germany replied curtly.

"Bro, I'm wounded." Gilbert replied, almost- _almost_ \- truthfully, "It's not like I did it on purpose."

" _Ja..._ I know…" Ludwig admitted. "That was from all of us that miss you."

Gilbert half-cackled in amusement. "Gee, good to see you unawesome freaks still miss me," he commented, smirking his usual smug grin.

Germany almost couldn't help but crack a smile. "We _do_ still miss you." He assured him, "I know I do."

"So, what, that gives you license to mope at home alone on Christmas?" Gilbert asked, almost bluntly. "Christmas is my favorite holiday, and it's not nearly as awesome without family to spend it with."

"You _were_ my family, dummkoph." Germany groaned, exasperated.

"West, don't you dare make me get more 'sappy Christmas story with a lesson and happy ending' junk than tonight's already been." Gilbert shook his head, "I mean seriously, Ghost of Christmas Past and Present? What are we, some Victorian author's story? So cornball!"

Ludwig cracked a smile. It did seem like a pretty hokey setup. "But after all tonight, you really don't get it, do you?" Gilbert said, softly. "Feliciano… Kiku… All those guys- they're your family too. Und they've been worried about you. Heck, sweet little Feli's been so worried about you he made himself sick over it."

Gilbert moved Ludwig's face so it faced him. "Don't push your family away because I made bad Christmas memories for you… Cause, unless I'm wrong there's been a lot more awesome ones that've already happened and are still yet to come."

Germany took a deep breath, nodding his head. "O-Okay…" he said softly. "I-I'll try."

"Good." Gilbert wrapped his arms around his baby brother. " _Ich leibe dich, you dummkoph."_

" _Ich leibe dich auch, dummkoph_." Ludwig mumbled in reply.

Gilbert cackled again. "Hey, just be grateful I did this my way and not the unawesome way I was told to do this!"

"The way you were told to do this?" Germany questioned, pulling out of the hug.

"Ja," Gilbert replied, "The guys that visited earlier dressed me up in some green monkey suit und told me I had to get the point across to you with all that scary Ghost of Christmas Future stuff. You know, showing you the eventual disappearance of the Christmas Markets, your people suffering and the economy taking a dive cause there's no Christmas shopping and stuff, und you getting all depressed cause you're not able to carry out your Nation duties, und finally wrapping up with showing you Feli all depressed and following you down the whole 'spiraling depression' rabbit hole and slowly resenting Christmas more and more each year."

Gilbert smiled his self-satisfied grin again. "But, the awesome me decided not to put his precious baby brother through all that. I think you got the message that it breaks mein awesome heart seeing you hurt so much at the best, _most_ awesome time of the year."

Ludwig looked down, still a bit shell-shocked from the description Gilbert gave him and silently thanking him for sparing him from that pain. He didn't know if he could've taken seeing Italy like that, especially if it was because of him. " _J-ja…_ " he answered, "I think you've done more than enough."

"Good." Gilbert grinned, then frowned, "Aw, man. I gotta go, Lud. It's almost morning."

Ludwig frowned as well. "Fine… I understand…" he muttered, "I don't want you to go. But I understand…"

As Gilbert turned to leave, Ludwig spoke up again. "Bruder?"

The albino ex-Nation turned. "Merry Christmas, Big Bruder."

Gilbert, previously known as Prussia, grinned again. "Merry Christmas, West."

And just like that, he was gone and Germany was waking up to the sound of his alarm buzzing incessantly.

Germany silenced his alarm and sat up in bed, trying to process the night previous. Was it all… just a dream? One hand to his boots and the puddles of melted snow around them was enough to confirm it was, in fact, not a dream.

The blond looked out his window, seeing a young boy walking down the sidewalk. He tore open the window and threw up the sash, then shouted to catch the boy's attention. "H-hey! Boy! Tell me, what day is today?!"

The boy, confused and slightly frightened by the commanding tone and thick German accent, managed to control his fear long enough to answer. "C-Christmas! It's Christmas sir!" he shouted back.

Pure joy rushed through the German's stony heart. _Christmas! It's Christmas!_ He thought, feeling as giddy and excited on the inside as-!

"Italy!" he said aloud, tearing out of bed and stumbling into clothing, not bothering to brush his hair or teeth.

In a frenzied hurry, Germany sped the entire way to Italy's home. He was barely able to contain his worry as he waited for someone to answer the door.

When someone did answer the door, there was not exactly what one would call "Christmas cheer". "What are _you_ doing here, you stupid potato-jerk!?" Romano grumbled loudly, "Haven't you hurt my little brother enough?!"

"Merry Christmas to you too, Romano," Germany replied, unfazed and still as internally giddy as he was before. "I came to apologize for my behavior yesterday. Please, I have to see him!"

"My foot, you're coming in here!" Romano bellowed.

Germany rolled his eyes and offered him one of the bags in his hand. "I was going to wait, but this is as good a time as any. Merry Christmas."

Romano huffed, taking the bag. "What, some kind of peace offering? Like I'll accept any kind of your German-"

"Just open it." Germany said, exasperated.

Romano's eyes shifted distrustingly, but removed the tissue paper to reveal a tall bottle of wine. "This… this is a 1939 Merlot! Where the heck did you get this?!"

"I've been saving it for a special occasion. I figured a peace offering when I really messed up and made you mad was as special as any." Germany replied. "Now may I come in?"

Romano pouted and opened the door wider. "I guess so…" he grumbled. "But if you make him cry on Christmas, I swear I'll set the Don on you!"

Germany didn't doubt that he would. He hurried behind Romano, anxious to see the little Italy that had collapsed from exhaustion only hours earlier. When they found him, Feliciano was in his bed, presents scattered over the comforter and a cup that smelled like coffee and eggnog. He beamed a tired smile as soon as Germany entered the room. "Ve! Germany!" he nearly sang, "I'm so happy you came! I thought you were going to be all alone for Christm-!"

Feliciano didn't get to complete the thought before the German had caught him completely off guard with a hug. The usually chatty nation was silenced in surprise but his surprise melted into a soft smile. He put a hand to his back and stroked it gently in an act of comfort. "Feliciano, I'm sorry." Ludwig spoke softly. "I was a complete dummkoph, und I got upset with you when all you were trying to do was help me through a hard time."

"Ve… It's okay, Luddy." He replied softly, understandingly. "You're still grieving, and that's okay…. It's like when the anniversary of Nonno's death comes around, and we take a day off work." He frowned slightly. "I just… I didn't want to see you so alone and in pain on such a wonderful day… Christmas is supposed to be spent with the people you love."

"I know, I know that now," Ludwig said, "I'm sorry I was such a dummkoph… could you ever forgive me?"

"I was never angry with you, Luddy." Feliciano smiled. "But if that's not what you want to hear, then yes, all is forgiven!"

"Good… I'm glad." Ludwig smiled, and sat up from the hug and digging through his pockets. "here, this is for you."

"Ve?" Italy cocked his head like a confused puppy. "You didn't have to get me anything, Germany."

"I wanted to." Germany replied, offering him a small box.

Italy opened it carefully, carefully tearing open the package and then opening the box. "Ve! It's a necklace, like yours!"

Inside the box, there was a small iron cross about the size of a quarter attached to a chain. "That was mine," Germany explained, then reached into his shirt collar and procured his dogtags (an old habit he never let go of from his years of military service). Next to the tags hung an Iron Cross, like the one in the box. "Und this is Gilbert's."

"It'll be the second most important cross in my life." The Mediterranean nation smiled, placing it around his neck and touching the Catholic crucifix it hung next to. "Thank you, Germany. I love it!"

Germany smiled. "We were about to open presents, won't you join us?" Italy chimed, patting the bed next to him for him to sit.

Germany took the offered seat on the bed, despite murderous glares from Romano. "Merry Christmas, Feliciano."

"Buon Natale, Ludwig."

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 **Well, thank you for reading :D watch, favorite, comment, review and feed your ninjas well!**

 **(Also thank you for bearing with me with all the fanfiction clichés that have cropped up because I know they were there and I hate myself a little bit for it and I did it anyways because I do what I want, beyoch!)**


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